Planting Her Garden
by dreamer one
Summary: Sometimes flowers are just flowers. Sometimes, they mean much more. SJ
1. Chapter 1

PLANTING HER GARDEN

(Time: About four weeks after the events of Line in the Sand.)

The sun was rising. Though the superheated bringer of daylight had yet to cross the horizon, the muted pink glow that graced the eastern sky assured him dawn was imminent.

His timing was perfect, as always. Once he'd seen her, assured himself she was alright, he'd start his self appointed task. By then, there would be more than enough daylight.

Stealthily, the well trained soldier turned a key in the lock, opened the front door and walked in. Even now, after more than a year of regular visits to this residence, the layout of her home surprised him. Fortunately, the pre-dawn light illuminated the darkness enough to provide safe passage without benefit of artificial light. If she was still asleep, he didn't want to wake her.

_God knows, she needs her sleep_, he thought to himself as he made his way toward the bedroom. Sleep, rest, a balanced diet and freedom from stress had been the doc's orders. She wasn't one to follow orders very precisely, but she didn't have much of a choice as far as he could tell. Last time he'd seen her, it was all she could do to move from the couch to the bedroom.

Grateful for his long years of military training, he opened the bedroom door silently and crept towards her bedside, his breathing controlled, nearly non-existent. Sure enough, she was fast asleep. From what he could see, she had no idea there was an uninvited visitor standing over her. That worried him. Still, she was sleeping peacefully, a look of serenity on her beautiful face.

Resisting the nearly overpowering urge to lie down beside her, Jack O'Neill smiled softly at the sleeping figure of his wife. _She is so beautiful_, he thought. _I can't imagine how I'd go on without her._

In spite of himself, Jack pulled away from the bed and made his way back out the bedroom door. It was time to start the project he'd laid out for himself. Without further ado, he made his way to Sam's garage and found the tools he needed. _Wheelbarrow, shovel, rake, a smaller shovel and a trowel; that should do it for now_, he thought.

As he gathered the materials he'd brought with him, starting to open large bags his friend had left for him, Jack flashed to his last conversation with Sam before the ill-fated mission. On a particularly nasty March afternoon in Colorado Springs, they'd been looking forward to spring. Sam had begun to recall some of her favorite childhood memories. Before she knew it, she was describing in detail her mother's rose garden, a source of wonder and joy during her early childhood. He'd seen the happiness in her eyes as she described the magic times she'd spent tending the flowers with her mother. From what he remembered now, it seemed planting a garden had been a spring tradition for Sam while her mother was alive.

On that miserable March afternoon, while sleet and snow pounded against the windows and Jack wondered if he'd ever make it back to Washington for his Monday morning meeting, Sam decided this was the year she wanted to have a garden. She was forty years old and so far, as an adult, she'd yet to plant a single flower. But now, for the first spring of her married life, she longed to have a garden of her own. And on that, their last day together before her near fatal injury, she'd shared that simple dream with her husband.

Even now, more than a month later, with his wife well on the road of recovery and definitely out of danger, Jack cringed to recall his less than enthusiastic response.

While Sam waxed poetic on the beauties of a spring garden, Jack had told her in no uncertain terms that gardening was not an activity he enjoyed. "I don't have the patience to wait for things to grow" were the exact words that had made their way from his mouth. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, he thought. _All Sam wanted was a garden and a husband who'd love it as much as she did._

Of course, Sam had laughed off his scorn, chalking it up to the same ignorance that had kept her away from fishing for so long. (Not exactly, but he knew what she meant!) And he'd gone back to Washington, not really giving the conversation a second thought. Hey, Sam would plant her garden and he'd tell her how nice it was, but Jack O'Neill wasn't one for digging in the ground.

Then everything changed. A phone call from Hank Landry had rocked his world. Sam had been hit by an energy weapon on a nameless planet SG1 was defending. It didn't look good. He'd been back in the Springs as soon as a transport could get him there, furious that Thor hadn't been available and trembling inside at the thought of his wife fighting for her life. By the time he'd made it the SGC, Sam was out of surgery, but not out of the woods by a long shot. He'd sat by her bed for days, occasionally taking a five minute break, but most often eating meals by her bedside and sleeping with his head on the side of her bed, waiting for her to wake up.

When she had, he'd been relieved. He'd been given a second chance. They'd been given a second chance. _How could he have started to take her for granted so soon? _He'd asked himself. _An incredible woman, the love of his life, how had he assumed she'd always be there. Sure they'd been lucky enough to finally get together. But even for the miraculous SG1, there wouldn't always be a tomorrow, _he realized

Three weeks after surgery, Sam had been home and doing well. After a week, she'd insisted she was well enough for Jack to return to Washington and catch up on his Homeworld Security responsibilities. Reluctantly, with Janet's assurances, Jack had agreed.

For the past week, he'd called, or Sam had called, at least twice a day. To Jack's way of thinking, it wasn't nearly enough. Originally he'd planned to return in another week, but missing Sam got the better of him. Besides, she'd sounded so sad. It was finally spring but it would be weeks before Sam would be in any shape to clear the ground and plant her garden. She'd sounded sad. He'd been worried.

So here he was. The fifth of May, 0600, the sun just clearing the horizon, garden tools scattered around him, bags of topsoil, fertilizer and mulch piled in the driveway, and a variety of roses and other flowers arranged over to the side. The Major General had to admit he had little idea where to start, but operation Sam's Garden was underway.

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A/N: I was clearing some annual beds this afternoon. Every muscle aches right about now, so I decided writing was the thing to do. Jack might as well suffer with me!

Hope you like. One more chapter to come: Sam wakes up!


	2. Chapter 2 Picking Flowers

_The Major General had to admit he had little idea where to start, but operation Sam's Garden was underway.

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PICKING FLOWERS

Less than one hour after turning the first shovel of dirt, Jack was breathing heavily and perspiring more than he had in a long time. All those hours behind a desk had obviously taken their toll. Though he worked out four days a week, fairly vigorously as far as he was concerned, nothing had prepared him for what was quickly morphing into back breaking labor.

_Thank God Sam didn't get it into her head to try this_, he thought, realizing it was the sort of hair-brained move he would have made defying doctor's orders. Sam was smarter than that. Still, he wondered how she'd intended to clear out this patch on her own; there were enough old tree roots, tangled brambles and otherwise undesirable items in this patch of heretofore untried and untilled land to make even the most experienced gardener quake in his garden shoes.

As Jack paused for a moment, considering his next move and looking at the already grimy, muddy condition of his clothing, he heard the door open behind him. _The lady of the house, undoubtedly_, he thought. _Well, I certainly look like Prince Charming right about now. _No sooner had he taken a deep breath and resigned himself to his current appearance, than he turned around to greet his wife.

"Damn it," Jack hollered, as he promptly fell over the as yet unused garden tools he'd carelessly deposited behind him. _When did I get to be such a klutz?_ He asked himself. He had to admit, at his age, he was lucky he hadn't broken anything with his clumsy move. All he wanted to do was turn around and see Sam. Now as he looked up, he saw his favorite vision of loveliness, trying oh so hard to stifle her laughter.

"All right, I wouldn't want you to suffocate trying to hold it in or anything," he said, trying not to smile at the mirth playing around Sam's eyes.

"What are you trying to do?" Sam asked, as innocently as she could.

"I'm trying to dig up a Stargate," he quipped, "what does it look like I'm doing?"

Sam looked at Jack intently, genuinely glad he'd come, but still a bit bewildered at the sight of him now sitting unceremoniously on her front lawn.

"Funny…," she said, finally giving in to a wide grin and a little giggle. Then seeing Jack wince, she thought better of it and came over to him.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, standing over her husband, now on the verge of laughter himself. "Here, let me help you up."

_Okay, this was worth it,_ Jack thought. Sam, beautiful as ever, standing over him on a fresh spring day with a brilliant sun still rising in the clear cerulean blue sky; he could look up at her forever. Silky blond hair, blue eyes glistening, her megawatt smile and spectacular body entranced him as always. As she reached down to give him a hand up from his awkward position, he momentarily considered pulling her down to join him. Quickly he remembered her wounds were still not completely healed; that level of playfulness would have to wait a bit longer.

Once back on his feet, Jack stood directly in front of his wife, a smile tugging on his lips.

"I'm glad to see you" he said, taking in her sleep tousled hair and somewhat crumbled nightwear. Sam slept in a tank top and pair of pajama bottoms; it was clear there was a pretty sizeable bandage under the tight fitting top. Jack winced to realize she was still fighting the effects of her injury.

"How are you?" he asked, as she reached for him. "Hey, I'm dirty," he protested, pulling back a bit. He felt disgusting, what with his dirty hands and muddy clothes.

"And you think I care?" Sam said, going right ahead and pulling him snugly into her embrace. "I've wanted you here for the past seven days. I'm not about to wait a minute longer."

Jack gave in easily, enjoying the warmth of her arms around him. "I've missed you too, Sam. I couldn't wait any longer to see you."

Sam gave her husband a quick kiss and pulled back just enough to see him clearly. "I thought you had a meeting with the Joint Chiefs and the President this morning."

"I did," Jack admitted sheepishly. "I told them something came up."

"Something came up? You told the President you had something better to do?"

"Yep," he said. "It's not like the world needed saving or anything. Then again, this 'garden' of yours, now that," he said, with a bit of disdain, gesturing at the half cleared plot in front of him, "I'd say that needs saving."

"Told you it would be a challenge," she said. "Hey, is that why you're here, to start my garden?"

"Yeah, thought it would be nice, spring and all, you know."

Jack was rewarded with Sam's glorious smile. "You're wonderful," she said after a moment that found Jack basking in her glow. "What did I do to deserve all of this attention?" Sam asked as she took in the wide variety of flowers and foliage her husband had brought with him. "Wow," she said. "There's a lot of plant material here, Jack. Who's helping you put this all in?"

"Too much?" he asked sheepishly.

Sam was overwhelmed with the variety of beautiful rose bushes Jack had selected. Different colors and varieties, they were truly beautiful specimens. As if that weren't enough, directly behind the rose collection were selected perennials and two flats of impatiens.

"They're beautiful Jack. But it is a lot for this one area you're clearing."

"That's what Brad said," Jack admitted, referring to his friend who owned the garden center. But I couldn't decide. You know, different color roses mean different things, friendship, love, respect, appreciation, beauty, joy, desire… did I mention love? I couldn't decide, so I got them all," he said with an innocent shoulder shrug.

"I love you, Jack O'Neill," Sam said, captivated as always by the way her husband found new and different ways to her heart. Holding his hand and walking over to the remaining flowers, she asked, "That explains the roses; what about everything else?"

"Well the roses won't be in full bloom for awhile and I told Marty and Peter, the assistants at the center, you'd need something for color in the meantime. I had everything delivered after you'd gone to sleep last night."

"Who'd you get to deliver all this stuff in the middle of the night?" Sam asked, wondering how it had all miraculously materialized.

"Rob brought it over; says you must be pretty special," Jack admitted, remembering the look of envy of his buddy's face. "In case you haven't noticed, I think he's right."

By now, Jack and Sam were standing toe to toe, gazing lovingly at each other. Whether or not the garden was planted today, they were together and for now, the world was a wonderful place to be.

After a few moments of simply appreciating each other's presence, Sam broke the silence.

"I saw gourmet coffee ready to be brewed and breakfast sandwiches in the kitchen. Did Rob bring those too?"

"No, I stopped for those," Jack said indignantly. "I was waiting for Sleeping Beauty to make her appearance before I started."

"Okay then, General," she said. "Sleeping Beauty could use some coffee and I think you can use some breakfast. Then we'll tackle the roses."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jack answered, knowing he was home, exactly where he was supposed to be.

THE END

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A/N: Hope you liked. Love reviews. And happy gardening! 


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